


how to get fired in twenty steps; a Master Plan

by hoasen



Series: of sweetness, strategies, and a pair of Rukongai brats [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Flirting, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Moral Ambiguity, Not Beta Read, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Seireitei Arc, Self-Indulgent, UraIchi but blink and you'll miss it, if you can call it that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoasen/pseuds/hoasen
Summary: Really, why does Urahara get all the fun when Gin and Rangiku are Right There. Because sometimes, it takes two to become a snake.Uryuu just wants a refund.
Relationships: Ichimaru Gin/Ishida Uryuu, Inoue Orihime & Matsumoto Rangiku, Minor Inoue Orihime/Matsumoto Rangiku
Series: of sweetness, strategies, and a pair of Rukongai brats [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711264
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	how to get fired in twenty steps; a Master Plan

**Author's Note:**

> anyone remember canon?
> 
> In all seriousness, this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, not quite a buddy cop thing but I'm getting there

Gin and Rangiku have a  _ Deal _ . As long as he gets her the contact information of the latest girl that catches her fancy (along with a few more mandates), she’ll support him in his master plan of triple-crossing. They have their own bigger Master Plan too, involving a great deal of knots to undo but that’s for another time.

  


Her captain, as competent as he might be, has a century or two before he could begin to catch on. It’s very important that Hitsugaya doesn’t find out, the kid’s a bit of a stickler for the rules  _ and  _ threw out her sake stash in the office last night.

  


“That’s super tragic Ran-chan,” Gin says as he proceeds to fill out another form.

  


See? They’re Best Friends. Super Best Friends.

  


Not that someone who thinks Aizen Sousuke was remotely hot, even for a split second, has the right to opinions. The only part of themselves that should ever feel any attraction to Four Eyes’ face is their fist.

  


“Well!” she claps her hands together, “I wonder where  _ your  _ stash went?”

  


The captains—at least the cool ones—take turns hosting drinking parties every other week, coincidentally always around the time monthly paperwork is due. She heard he was next according to Isane-chan who heard it from Yachiru.

  


This is also for that time he thought it was brilliant to tell Captain Unohana that Rangiku thought she should let her hair down more and  _ then _ told Captain Hitsugaya about her betting pool.

  


Gin gives her a smile that she returns, equally devious, “Ya didn’t.”

  


-

  


“Guys, guys, did you hear about that spar between Captain Ichimaru and Lieutenant Matsumoto?”

  


“Yeah, I heard the trees in that area were blown away and Captain Hitsugaya got  _ really  _ mad.”

  


“Isn’t that just because she skimped on the paperwork again?”

  


“Aren’t  _ you  _ skimping on your paperwork, Hinamori-san?”

  


“Sure, but at least my Captain  _ cares _ about me!” the Lieutenant of the Fifth Division said.

  


Low blow, Hinamori, low blow.

  


-

  
  


Besides the Twelfth Division (those creeps™ who look at her captain like the next key to making super-powered baby soldiers) and maybe parts of the Fourth Division, the majority of Shinigami don’t understand the joy that is modern human inventions. They've never tried actual Boston Cheesecake and it  _ shows _ . 

  


Gin has a supply line from a candy shop in a human world that has ILLEGAL written all over it with red ink followed by the Omitsukido. You know, as smart as Gin may be, he’s pretty shit at hiding how much human treats he inhales at any given chance. It’s a good thing no one expects Matsumoto Rangiku to lie to authority that much anyways.

  


“Do ya think Kuchiki’s constipated?” he says as they open their next box of souffle. 

  


That’s a simple question, “Isn’t he always?”

  


Gin might think that the Sixth Division Captain’s real pretty and everything but that doesn’t mean he isn't sort of a block of ice. 

  


But apparently (and slightly off-topic), the stuff from France is really good according to Gin, who Matsumoto  _ absolutely knows  _ just sent a month’s worth of salary to that shady candy shop. Another reason why they shouldn’t do their finances together.

  


Then Gin switches to this tone and it’s time to pull out this week’s gossip, “In the Captain’s meetin' that ya delayed, I heard that the Kuchiki girl’s been missing for a while.”

  


“Kuchiki Rukia? Heard her mission to the Human World’s due in a few days,” yeah, but she’s an unseated officer and the hollow problem didn’t send any weird reiatsu signatures but—

  


“Ya know that spike in Karakura?”

  


She does, but that town’s quite literally no man’s land. Out of ordinary reiatsu activity’s an everyday occurrence, even if the one Gin’s referring to was larger than ordinary.

  


A smack on the table, “ _ Shit _ , Gin, you don’t mean that they would?”

  


“They would.”

  


_ This _ has SABOTAGE written all over it with red ink followed by some intense internal corruption (not that it was anything new). Deep breath, deep breaths.

  


“Then why don’t you give a call to that candy shop?” 

  


Now, she wouldn’t be suggesting this if it was any sort of a legitimate business, to begin with. Well, if he keeps the steady supply going she won’t mind.

  


Oh, and Rangiku is well aware that shady business has an even shadier boss that might or might not be a convict of the Soul Society, banished to the human world. Also who might or might not be an ex-Captain of the Twelfth Division. Gin knows that she knows in the same way he knows about her poetry collection because the man asked her to help him with  _ this  _ specific part of his finances. 

  


“Said he sold a gigai last night,” it comes out slightly muffled by the sound of wrappers.

  


Oh,  _ oh _ . She’s got a brilliant, potentially catastrophic plan.

  


“Do you think he can sell two more?” and the marmalade on tartine tastes even sweeter.

  


Gin looks at her like she’s finally given him the key to carrying out all the stupid, probably suicidal plans he has in store. It’s almost like they're back to being wide-eyed Rukongai brats planning their next big heist. Their continued existence should say how successful everything went.

  


-

  


Ichigo’s class is met with two transfer students the next day who look like they  _ really _ shouldn’t be in high school. At this point, the boy has not yet reached the level of immunity to bullshit being relatively new to this whole Soul Society schtick. Don’t get me wrong, the boy already has an immense tolerance to everything in his life but with the advent of a Death God floating into his room one day, the occasional supernatural phenomenon and beating up local thugs got a tad, shall we say,  _ stale _ .

  


Anyhow, the main crux of the problem for Ichigo is that Rukia  _ recognizes _ these people. It should say a lot that his class has now a good percentage of dead people in it. Geta-Boushi is involved somehow, Ichigo just knows it.

  


(Gin and Rangiku spend an entire class period not once listening to the balding man at the front, probably.)

  


“We,” Rukia drags him away from the class after a bullshit explanation, “Have to go—didn’t you feel anything different about them?”

  


“They’re Shinigami.”

  


“Who  _ outrank _ me, the silver one with the creepy grin is Ichimaru, a Captain and the redhead is a Lieutenant,” it’s another way of saying that they wouldn’t break a sweat slitting Ichigo’s throat.

  


The two of them are headed directly for Geta-Boushi’s sham of a candy store at light speed a human body shouldn’t possess. Ichigo supposes it’ll be nicer eating lunch there anyways without Ishida’s incoming questions, or worse.

  


Urahara Kisuke is waiting for them at the counter, lazily flipping through some pages. Tessai is in the back making tea for their incoming guest who should be here right about… now.

  


“ _ Fuck you _ , Geta-Boushi!'' Their resident human experiment slams open his door with an equally fuming Rukia by his side. 

  


“You’re welcome to try, Ichigo-kun!” his smile is as bright as ever.

  


(Poor door, it never gets a break these days.)

  


Rukia puts her fist down between the attempts of strangling from Ichigo, “What the  _ hell  _ are two higher-ups  _ doing _ in Karakura and why the fuck do they have  _ your  _ fucking gigai?”

  


This bastard just—he just  _ laughs _ in their faces.

  


Now, Kisuke can’t just deny two of his most loyal customers a favor can he?

  


-

  


She doesn’t know what to expect really, humans are so tricky and weird. They’ve got their own weird stuffy hierarchical system with its unwritten rules and arbitrary economy. Instead of spiritual powers, they have towers of glass reaching for the sky and automobiles that do not look anything like she’s seen last time she was over the human world.

  


(Last time she was over, telephones were a brand new thing.)

  


Gin was having a field day with his plastic card that’s supposed to be a human currency, waltzing through supermarkets. There is light coming off of him, that is for sure. To whoever’s money they were spending (a high chance being Shady Shop Owner Man), she sends her most sincere thanks.

  


“That’s Ichigo next to the Kuchiki girl?” she whispers next to him.

  


They escape the classroom the first chance they get, all with the practiced grace skipping class requires. It’s certain that the Kuchiki girl had spent  _ some  _ time in the Academy despite being from a noble house.

  


“Shame they’re leavin’ so soon,” Gin said, jotting down some mental notes about the other classmates.

  


This might be the only time Rangiku would admit it but Seireitei was right when they said that Karakura Town was a spiritual landmine waiting for its spark ( _ gods _ , that was Rukia). In this class alone, the majority of students were somewhat slightly spiritually aware, reacting whenever Gin decides to lay down some pressure in some way. There’s also a Quincy (their total genocide was unsuccessful then) and two absolute freaks of nature aside from Ichigo.

  


(“All of ‘em ‘ave their unethical experiments, huh?”

  


Anyone aware enough could see waves of bad vibes coming from the shop a town away. Not that it really mattered before when they were a dimension away with boxes wrapped in glittering bows delivered at their doorsteps three days or so.

  


“Gin your choice of associates never fails to surprise.”

  


“I try, ah.”)

  


The Quincy’s staring them down with enough malice to drown a Hollow whenever he thinks they aren’t looking (jokes on him, Rangiku could tell every time). He looks like a good student, would be a kidou nerd if he went to the Academy. Most Quincies have the innate talent for it. 

  


When lunch break comes, it’s with a group of curious children surrounding Gin and Rangiku’s desk. Oh to be young again.

  


Gin props his head on the Quincy’s desk, leaving Rangiku to the masses, “Ain’t ya Ishida-kun?”

  


The boy raises an eyebrow and stops writing, “Is there something Ichimaru-san needs?”

  


“Ya ‘ave interestin’ friends,” his smile is as punchable as ever, “there’s a coffee place down the street, wanna go after school? Ya look smart.”

  


For someone who thrives in subtlety, Gin is being very blatant. Perhaps that was only Rangiku’s interpretation. Unfortunately, she trusts his judgment.

  


Ishida flushes because that’s a whole repressed teenage boy who’s only perceived purpose in life is to do well professionally. The red might also be due to sudden alarm but you never know with Gin. Huh, maybe there’s a chance the boy really would accept.

  


Then Gin gets swatted away in the most passive aggressive manner known to high school honors students before another word could be said. It was somewhat deserved, Rangiku admits and he’s lucky all that the boy had was a thin notebook. 

  


-

  


Orihime looks at the new transfers warily, thinking along the same line Ichigo did when the boy was rushed out of the class. Yeah, sure, she might be considered airheaded sometimes but she wasn’t  _ stupid _ . Just because she stutters around a cute boy (not really, she just has a type that might or might not include Tatsuki) doesn’t mean she isn’t one of the best students in the class (if the government decides she isn’t worth it, next month’s subsidies won’t be enough).

  


The girl with orange hair shades lighter than her rust colored hair, Matsumoto Rangiku, has not looked at the board once and speaks with an accent like those in period dramas. She probably does it better than those B-list actors on TV. The boy, Orihime gets a Bad Feeling about. It’s the kind of Bad Feeling you get when you realize after you finished your entire budget that you calculated the taxes a few digits off and there’s something wrong with your checking account. Not to mention that your friend has the same problem.

  


Poor Ishida-san.

  


Ichigo might’ve gotten their attention because he’s Kurosaki Ichigo, and Rukia because she happens to be sort of  _ dead _ . While Orihime might have her hair clips and all, they weren’t that special, not like Ishida’s near extinct bloodline.

  


Well, Orihime does admit she has a bit of an issue with zoning out considering she just noticed that Matsumoto-san is now sitting next to her. 

  


Matsumoto-san is  _ sitting next to her _ .

  


Up close, she’s so pretty with an edge to it that makes Orihime want to faint, stars dancing her eyes. What  _ was _ this woman doing in Karakura? 

  


_ Matsumoto-san _ is sitting _ next  _ to her.

  


“I-it’s nice to m-meet you Matsumoto-san,” she pulls her best smile, pushing her hair away from her face, “I’m Inoue Orihime!”

  


That gets a quirk of Matsumoto’s lips in return. This must be what it feels like to meet a model first hand.

  


“Inoue-chan, I heard you were one of the best in the class at this, I’m a bit lost since it’s my first day,” Matsumoto-san said, pulling out a sheet of calculus so far away from the high school curriculum that it might as well be from Mars.

  


(But Matsumoto-san thinks she’s  _ smart _ , that she can do this. Who even was Orihime to deny that?)

  


Behind the other girl, Tatsuki gives her a big thumbs up.

  


“I don’t think this,” it takes a bit to think, “has been covered yet, I’m sorry, but! If you want, I can help you a bit after school.”

  


Rukia already dragged Ichigo off, so Orihime has to be the one to observe the transfer students. Ishida’s textbooks are also free estate so it shouldn’t be too hard to borrow, Orihime has crammed with far shorter time.

  


Not that Ishida would notice considering his current  _ preoccupation _ . Tragic. 

  


“Hmm, you put a tempting offer but I’ll have to pass for this afternoon, since I have a friend in desperate need, Inoue-chan,” then Matsumoto-san motions over to where the silver haired one is, hunched over Ishida’s desk.

  


Orihime doesn’t deflate, why would she? Matsumoto-san has a brilliant idea that is begging to be executed.

  


-

  


“Earth to Ichigo!” Kisuke knocks his cane against a still as ice Kurosaki.

  


That probably was a mistake on his part, however, since Rukia, their resident stop-Ichigo-from-strangling-people-unless-she-wants-in is held up elsewhere (wreaking havoc). There’s also a high chance that it’s entirely muscle memory when Ichigo attempts to dropkick the other man.

  


It takes more than that to surprise a former captain who steps aside and lifts a hand to block the rapidly approaching leg.

  


“My friends could be in  _ danger right now _ ! What are we waiting around here for, Geta-Boshi!” the boy says as he pulls his foot away. 

  


Before Ichigo could do anything drastic (say, going into his shinigami mode and go straight to the school), Kisuke pulls out his conveniently placed rope. Look, just because being out of duty for a few centuries put a damper on his training doesn’t mean he can’t tie a few knots.

  


He sighs, “They’re allies, if they haven’t reported me then you’ll be fine,” a grin erupts as Kisuke recalls a few facts, “Besides! Gin and I are quite the friends—I’ve been waiting for them for a while now”

  


Yes, the linchpin of paying bills for the last century or so when they actually started keeping track.

  


“Well,” Ichigo squirms, “You  _ could’ve _ told me ahead of time.”

  


“And not enjoy myself? Never.”

  


“Must be nice having nothing to do.”

  


He throws one free arm around the orange haired boy, “With you here, there’s never nothing, Ichigo!” 

  


Kisuke takes his responsibilities as a respectable adult not  _ that _ seriously but it must be said that he is still an adult, paying taxes and all. They spend the next few hours filling Ichigo in on all the necessary parts including where it’s important that every Gotei 13 member has a few years of vacation time per century and how if anyone could keep Rukia from going straight to a jail cell, it’s them. Not about how dead Aizen’s going to be once all the parts go together, of course, not yet.

  


-

  


Ishida shows up.

  


_ Ishida showed up. _

  


It’s a nice sentiment that Gin probably appreciates, Rangiku even more so. Orihime and she are in disguises that the girl fashioned for them (it’s a lot better than most could do in Seireitei, not including the usage of reiatsu. An awfully convenient skill for a teenage girl). 

  


“I think this is Ishida-san’s first date,” Orihime mutters from behind a newspaper, “He even brought flowers.”

  


They’re sunflowers and morning glories wrapped in shiny blue. Ishida was the first one to arrive before any of them, looking very lost in his school uniform (Orihime thinks that’s the most casual piece of clothing he owns aside from sleepwear). 

  


Now Rangiku feels bad, “I’m so sorry your friend’s first ever date is with my idiot of a brother, but if it helps, all of Gin’s dates so far have ended in fistfights.”

  


(Not that this should really count since they’re here for intel purposes.)

  


When Gin arrives, it’s with the German chocolates they’ve been saving (fucking  _ traitor _ ) and an airy smile as he sits himself down with Ishida. Somehow, when the silver haired man opens his mouth, it wasn’t met with a scowl.

  


“Uryuu-kun, I thought ya weren’t comin’,” oh, wow they’re on a first name basis now, “Though wouldn’t ya dad disapprove?”

  


“He has no business in my life, Ichimaru,” the Quincy said sharply.

  


“Makes ta two of us then!”

  


Huh, this is getting more fun than expected, especially when a flush of indignation rises.

  


Ishida pushes his glasses up after a long deep breath. He hasn't at all touched his coffee or the chocolates since they arrived, “Let me be clear here in case you get the wrong idea, Shinigami-san," Gin opens his eyes slightly wider, "I have no interest in consorting with the tools in my people's genocide."

  


' _ Aren't you here to finish the job? _ ' Uryuu doesn't say.

  


"You're int'restin', ain't cha? I'll gladly change ma reason ta be 'ere for ya but nonetheless," he shrugs.

  


At this moment Ishida Uryuu has never felt more connected on a spiritual level to Kurosaki Ichigo.  _ This _ must have been what the candy salesman was like to him. There needs to be the patience of a saint involved or else someone calls arson.

  


Gin wasn’t done talking though, not when Ishida could now see a sliver of sky blue eyes and the not-a-care-in-the-world smile lowering, “They don’t teach ‘bout ya kind in the Academy, the records other than those musty book ya need a cer’ain rank ta be, say that two cent’ries ago was a peaceful time. They say ya kind got blood on their hands.”

  


“We kill  _ Hollows _ .”

  


“Accordin’ to the Twelfth y'all destroyed the soul along with it, distruptin’ the balance.”

  


(Souls cannot be destroyed, only manipulated. That is the world’s law.)

  


“And that justified the death of hundreds of thousands?”

  


It’s interesting how much Uryuu could see between the lines of the way he talks, how his presence fills this room to its brim without much effort.

  


“I’ve never liked Central all that much, Uryuu-kun, or that Old Man—the Rukongai has been waitin’ for too long ya know,” Gin finishes his cup, “Ran-chan and I were thinkin’ ya would like it.”

  


(They  _ indeed _ have a plan, Rangiku is glad Gin remembers it. Orihime’s giving her weird looks that she’s been ignoring for a while now but they agree on most at least.)

  


Ishida lifts an eyebrow but his face is contemplative in the way it always is. If this was true, even a silver so, it would be the chance he’s dreamed of since childhood—since his grandfather’s hands could no longer draw a bow. A part of him could see sincerity behind the words, a burning conviction that threatens to swallow him with it.

  


If Ichimaru Gin, this  _ Shinigami _ , is lying? That is simple, the Quincy line could never be carried by his excuse of a father.

  


He lets himself shift forward by a slight margin, unable to suppress a climbing feeling in his chest, “If you needed me dead, you could have said so, I’m not quite as fond of theatrics like your kind.”

  


“Theatrics are import’nt for Central’s rule,” Gin nods, then leans himself in till there’s only a few inches separating them.

  


Oh.

  


_ Oh _ .

  


Those eyes of his, they’re unfathomably bright now that he’s so close to Uryuu, in the colors of clear arctic ice. Ishida feels something catch his breath. Everything about him is being read to his very ashes and that makes him want to grin and pick apart the other man like a dissection.

  


“Going for the kill?”

  


The mirth makes Ichimaru’s eyes sparkle like cut diamonds, “I was just thinkin’ that yer coffee's lookin’ awfully lonely, Uryuu-kun.” His breath is warm, saying Ishida’s name with a whisper.

  


His breath catches in his throat.

  


Sleek hands wrap themselves around his untouched cup, bringing it to curled lips. They’re pale red, but not quite pink. By Uryuu’s side, sunflowers and morning glories wrapped in shiny blue are mocking him. 

  


The coffee is not poisoned though. Perhaps it’s an antidote to an invisible toxin about to set itself off and kill everyone here including Ishida but he wasn’t going to give a Shinigami that much credit.

  


“...wouldn’t poison someone so valuable,” there’s coffee on the left side of his lips and Uryuu was sure he  _ did not _ say that aloud, “Just thought ya would think so.”

  


“And you’re avoiding my question.”

  


“Yep.”

  


“Then tell me.”

  


“Nothin’s set in stone.”

  


“Tell me why I should go along with this, Shinigami.”

  


Ichimaru tilts his head, “But ya already sound like ya want to, don’t cha?”

  


“Suicide would answer nothing for me.”

  


A pause.

  


“Of course,” he sets the cup down, standing up, “I’m not asking ya as a Shinigami, Uryuu-kun, but as ‘nother Rukongai brat lookin’ for trouble in the noble’s walls—though ya seem like ya just want to shove an arrow through ‘ere,” Ichimaru points to his chest. “I heard there’s a clearin’ near?”

  


Hm, Uryuu likes people who get it.

  


(Somewhere close by, Rangiku hides her face in her palms with a sigh while a confused Orihime pats her apologetically.)

  


“If you have no qualms against following a Quincy,  _ Ichimaru _ .”

  


-

  


Orihime tells her things from across the coffee table, like the abnormal hollows or wayward ghosts lingering for far longer than normal or her reishi in orange instead of blue becoming things no shinigami could begin to contemplate but so very grounded.

  


There are calluses on the girl’s hands, “I see them in my dreams often, all six of them.”

  


_ Spirits like a zanpakuto _ , “It’s possible you’re from a long diluted Quincy line or even a Shinigami like your other friend there. The world is small enough so.”

  


They don't follow Gin and Ishida out because Rangiku actually  _ likes _ sticking to plans. It's not even three in the morning during paperwork rush season and the only thing keeping her from a headache is this place's shortcake. As if a stray Shinigami was the most of their problems.

  


“You’re Shinigami, right Matsumoto-san?” there’s a fire in Orihime that’ll burn a thousand suns.

  


“Hm, we didn’t hide it well, did we?” Whatever Orihime asks of her, Rangiku wasn’t sure that she had the heart to reject her.

  


“Train me.”

  


“Ah?”

  


“Your strong and I,” Orihime bites her lips for a second, hands clutching each other then says the next part in almost a whisper, “And I’m too weak to be of use if what Ichimaru-san says is true.”

  


“You knew, huh.”

  


“Kuchiki-san is in trouble. That’s why you’re here.”

  


Even as a child, she’s always been fond of those who know more than they let on. Rangiku can’t be Rangiku if she rejects this. Gin would be thankful to know their potential allies’ capabilities, even better when Central knows nothing of said allies.

  


The staff’s giving them weird looks now and Rangiku plops from her seat with a smile, startling the girl. She extends a hand and the light from Orihime when realization hits her is as blinding as a byakko’s flame cut from the first light of spring.

  


“Call me Rangiku from now on, alright?”

  


-

  


Ichigo is sure he might be blind or Geta-Boushi was up to something again (the latter is always right). This is  _ fine _ , he is  _ fine _ .

  


But Ishida might not be.

  


He might even take the time to feel offended if the situation wasn’t so wildly off. It took him an almost death match for Ishida to even consider him some sort of ally-friend-rival thing without getting a reishi-formed arrow down his throat everytime he even looks at Ishida the wrong way.

  


This Ishida though? The one that’s engaged in a mock spar (because there’s not nearly enough passive aggressive death threats for a fight and those are  _ stars _ in his eyes) with the Captain of the Third Division. A  _ Shinigami _ (OK, whatever Geta-Boushi might say, this is still suspicious).

  


Oh, gods, the Shinigami’s correcting Ishida’s form and the glare that gets is so half-hearted it’s sad. 

  


“That’s better, Uryuu-kun!” the Shinigami says when the Quincy nicks the skin of his throat (at least something is sorta normal).

  


Really though, Ichigo might need his eyes checked because _ Ishida Uryuu _ is flushed bright red to his collar. Oh, this is going to be a long forever, he thinks as the spar continues on.

  


Huh, he’s never seen Ishida so relaxed. There’s none of the usual scorn present on the other boy’s face when he sees the black Shihakusho (Ichigo doesn’t hold it against him), instead, there’s a sort of thrill whenever the Shinigami comes close to landing a hit.

  


The Shinigami, Ichimaru, is equally delighted in the fight, a grin that almost feels genuine wrapped around his face when he mutters something to Ishida. It was around this point when he realizes why Yuzu adores those romcoms on TV so much.

  


-

  


“Inoue-chan?”

  


“Give me a sec!” a slice of air, the humming of reishi, “Yes, Matsumoto-san?”

  


“Call me Rangiku,” she says, handing the girl a towel, “But I got something for you to test ‘Reject’ on.”

  


In her hand is reiatsu the size of two Kurosaki Ichigo condensed into faintly violet marble. This town is really fucking weird to have this lying around in some gigai (Gin almost drops his platter when Rangiku pulled it out of her sleeve.

  


“Ran-chan, where the  _ fuck  _ did ya get that from?”

  


“A gigai.”

  


Gin puts his hands up in surrender, “Just get it destroyed ‘nd don’t mention it ‘gain.”)

  


Orihime nods resolutely.

  


Shady Shop Owner Man owes them money now. An apology too.

  


-

  


When Kuchiki Byakuya and Abarai Renji waltz into Karakura town, they’re met with two wayward Shinigami. That… might not be accurate actually. Captain Ichimaru and Lieutenant Matsumoto are on their regular per century vacation time, submitted with the correct paperwork and everything. Yeah sure, they have Human World Permits due to their rank but no one puts that together until  _ now _ .

  


_ How the fuck did they get through Senkaimon unnoticed anyhow? _

  


(The answer was the Shady Shop Owner Man with a passing knowledge in smuggling. It always is.)

  


“Fancy meeting you here, Captain Kuchiki, Lieutenant Abarai!” a Matsumoto in human garb waves at them.

  


Everything in this damned town has so many shades of ILLEGAL over it that makes Central’s many prisons feel like a lawyer’s office. Now, the Captain and Lieutenant of the Seventh Division are here for one (1) thing, and that’s to drag a missing Officer (who also has been dipping her toe in some not-Central-approved activities). Ignoring a few counts of treason might leave a sour taste in Byakuya’s mouth but  _ Hisana’s _ sister was far more important.

  


Things do not go as planned. On both ends.

  


“Who’s idea was it to do this in the first place?” The question goes unnoticed when Ichigo’s sword sets off a wave of reiryoku.

  


Abarai snarls, morphing his tattoos along with it, fire red hair as fierce as turbulent infernos. 

  


There are too many cherry blossom petals in the air to see properly when Byakuya sets off his shikai. Rangiku deflects the attacks easily with her shikai, though it’s significantly less pretty than anything Byakuya has ever done. Haineko’s bestest, though.

  


“Ichigo! They’re—”

  


A spray of blood, steel running through flesh.

  


Fuck,  _ fuck _ .

  


"Aim to kill, Shinsou!" This isn't enough but he can't release bankai  _ here _ . Abarai's about to finish it off.

  


Ah.

  


Perhaps it is an inevitability that Kuchiki Rukia was always meant to return to the Soul Society or bad planning on Gin and Rangiku’s part when Rukia offers herself up for an almost dead Ichigo. Gin is glad that the orange haired boy is asleep, he knows these types well, the sound screaming never seems to please him the way it does with Aizen. In the Rukongai, screams had meant something else he will never let resurface.

  


-

  


They do not sleep that night.

  


“Glasses Bastard probably still thinks the Hougyouku’s in Kuchiki, Ran-chan,” Gin chuckles to himself, “Ya ‘eard from Urahara?”

  


She wonders how Orihime’s faring, “Three days.”

  


“Shame ta cut our vacation short.”

  


-

  


Hearing that a couple of teenagers and a cat (who might be another Captain-level Shinigami in disguise but that’s for another day) are planning to raid the Soul Society through the front gates should not be surprising at this point. Wouldn’t be the first of their long list of crimes with their existence at the very top.

  


It’s Orihime who approaches them first with a firm set to her lips, flames burning a thousand suns in her eyes. Her steps are feather light like any well trained Shinigami.

  


The story could tell itself from here, as you all would know. Rangiku tells the girl she’ll think it over with Gin, earning a pensively hopeful look. The sun has barely broken the horizon in red light but it feels like three lifetimes in that single moment. When Orihime heads back for her apartment, it’s with a new kidou no human should know.

  


Then it is the Quincy boy and the tall one with the weird arms who approaches them next, with a box of cookies and the barest hint of concealed desperation. They might not be the best of friends with the missing Shinigami officer but she’s Ichigo’s friend  _ goddammit _ .

  


“So will you, Ichimaru, Matsumoto-san?” The sun and moon are facing each other as the indigo night sky pushes day away. Street lamps like stars frame the world.

  


Gin and Rangiku have a  _ Deal _ , a Plan that’s falling apart by the seams. If they agree, it would be less of a tear and more of letting Kenpachi run his zanpaktou through the entire tapestry. Oh, but when have they ever held on to fraying threads? This is their tapestry to ruin.

  


When he steps forward, it is with the knowledge the world might as well crumble under his foot.

  


"When have I ever rejected ya," Gin takes Ishida's hands (dotted with blisters and reishi burns) into his, he smiles and bends down to lay a soft kiss on the bandaged joints. A sharp intake of breath. “Uryuu-kun.”

  


In two days. They have two days.

  


-

  


“One day the kid’s going to develop feelings for you and it’ll be all over,” Rangiku muses (he already has, but Gin has enough to deal with right now), “Or you catch them first.”

  


There’s a soft sound of agreement. “If I make it til then.”

  


“You will,” no room for argument there with her tone.

  


“He’s gonna gut me first,” he said, although it comes off as more of a sigh despite the ever present smile.

  


“It’s the glasses.”

  


Life has been good to them recently.

  


-

  


Ichigo is pulled by the collar before he could challenge the guardian of the gates to a flat fight. It’s nice to know despite being trained by Urahara Kisuke, the boy inherits none of the psychological trickiness. Gin could  _ weep _ , a couple teenagers really think they could take on the entirety of Gotei 13. In another timeline maybe, but not this one. 

  


In this one, it’s planned out on a map in red ink using old convenient passages two Rukongai brats weaved a century ago. They’re in three groups, each with a wayward Shinigami (including that cat because it’s obvious enough at this point).

  


(“Yer going with the kitty then!” Gin says as he pats Ichigo sympathetically, “Don’t fall behind, kid.”

  


Gin himself is with sweet Orihime and Chad, leaving Ishida to Rangiku. It’s simple you see, one team rescues Rukia, one dismantles some unsightly rot within the Soul Society, and one for everything else, clearing the way.

  


Luckily for them, every competent Shinigami packs extra Shihakusho to wear. Not that they didn't come straight from Urahara's other basement-closet-thing. Ishida even looks good in the Onmitsukido uniform they borrowed from the cat, according to Gin.)

  


Yeah, sure, Ichigo will burst through a few doors and settle some fights with a Captain or two, but the property damage wouldn’t take them years to rebuild if this goes as planned.

  


-

  


Rangiku scans the street below until she spots their target, “Quincy kid, can you hit that unnoticed?”

  


He nods, forming an arrow with practiced ease (he better be glad that this place is so dense in reiatsu that no one notices the flicker), aiming it at the nonhuman Shinigami in the white haori. A Captain. The Captain of the Twelfth to be more specific.

  


“That’s the head of Research and Development, have fun ‘cause we're going through his basement later.”

  


With a quick breath, Ishida lets go and they disappear into the cracks.

  


(Once this is done and over with, Uryuu's going to have  _ fun _ burning these damned robes.)

  


-

  


In a luxurious underground tunnel beneath the Second Division Headquarters are three beings who decidedly do not belong there surrounded by a destroyed weaponry. Ichigo is due to descend by the Seventh Division any minute now. Besides that, they got to hit the underground filing cabinets next. Multitasking is a talent of Gin’s though.

  


Chad takes out the unsuspecting guards (there were quite a few) quickly and Orihime digs through the papers with Gin, singling out any reports, not on Hollows. The whole section on Quincies and the massacre that Chad picks up. She stills and something in her eyes makes it obvious.

  


It’s a real shame to cut this off short.

  


“Yasutora, yer good?”

  


A nod in return.

  


Gin’s never been all that partial to brute force but Chad’s hands are preoccupied with the documentation of the Omitsukido’s activities (they would be called crimes if everything the Second Division does wasn’t sanctioned). With a quick swipe of Shinsoo, parts of the wall collapse as they dart out into the tunnels.

  


A barrier Orihime erects blocks the entrance way they came from and where the foreign reiatsu signatures are quickly approaching. It will hold the pursuers off long enough. 

  


"There are multiple people at the end of that tunnel, five I believe, one significantly stronger than the other," Orihime says, pointing in the other direction when they're confronted with a crossroad.

  


Rangiku has a good eye for people (with a slight exception being her fondness for him) when she recommended Inoue. He rarely ever sees anyone with a sensitivity to reiatsu the way the human girl is, and that includes every Shinigami he's ever met, past or present.

  


The passage brings them straight to the sewers. Sewers Rukongai brats have a particular bond with. 

  


"Hold ya noses everyone, we're gettin' close," the Third Division Headquarters should be anywhere here now—ah, there.

  


Well, he needs to tell Kira not to get involved in a bit. Not that anyone in his Division would be that stupid. (How  _ was  _ his persimmon trees doing?)

  


-

  


In the far distance as a reishi-formed arrow goes straight through a seated officer with the penchant for human experimentation and Rukongai children, the Intruder Alarms go off. How Rangiku feels grim satisfaction bubbling up her chest at the sight.

  


“ _ Ryouka in the Seireitei! Ryouka in the Seireitei! _ ”

  


Ichigo must be here, then. Gods, when  _ was _ the last time the alarm bells had ever rung in Seireitei? At least no one from her Tenth Division better be part of the scampering crowd. They’re trained better than that.

  


-

  


Aizen was dead until he wasn’t.

  


There should’ve been something suspicious going on when the corpse of the guy next on their hit list was just  _ there _ , like an offering. Rangiku knows neither she nor Gin kill like that, taking the time to set up such an elaborate display. In this way, they’re almost similar to the Onmitsukido.

  


“You could never really  _ trust  _ a traitor, huh?” Aizen places his sword against Gin’s neck.

  


The universe is screaming yet the world is as still as it could be. Silver hair tips, bringing a delicate neck ever so against the glinting blade, enough to draw a thin line of blood. It comes with a sharp breath and a muffled shout of refusal.

  


He’s made a promise to Rangiku he can’t go back on though, (because if so, she’ll cry and he’ll feel like there’s a hole where his heart should be), “The pot callin’ the kettle black, Sousuke-kun.”

  


Before Aizen could bring Kyouka Suigetsu into a full bow, Gin flash steps away with a grin decorating his face. There’s ash billowing around them, Ran-chan’s zanpaktou, Haineko, should be hiding there somewhere, all he has to do is provide an opening.

  


“Central would call for your head in a heartbeat!” That’s a fact he knows like scripture, the Soul Society has no love for those who show even the vaguest inclination towards treason.

  


“And yer wish wouldn’t come true.”

  


Rangiku will make sure of that.

  


-

  


Amazingly, everything doesn’t break down into discord the moment the main fight ends. Aizen escapes, of course, being the damned sneaky bastard he is, but it’s with a death sentence hanging over his head and two missing arms, courtesy of Zangetsu and Shinsou. The others on their hit list aren’t too lucky, like the Head of R&D for example, and the R&D building. Uryuu made  _ sure _ nothing would remain of it.

  


Now, in front of his door to an empty, too-clean house, the lamplights behind him feel like a call for  _ something _ . Ryuuken has long since left this place, his mother’s presence wiped then too. The books are still there and that’ll do until there’s no need for so many bandages on a person so he could show his face at school again without a phone call directly to Ryuuken.

  


(Jokes on them, the number they have directly links to his cell. The other one to a landline that doesn’t exist.)

  


He should do something about the dust collecting in the kitchen and living room, preferably not now but it’s  _ irritating _ . Raiding the Seireitei would be nicer than having to deal with his symptoms once the allergies act up. If only he had all of his mother’s genes.

  


Everything’s where it last is, including the dishes no one did.

  


The couch is heavy cotton that he melts into with ease, aches he refused to ignore finally letting go. Sleep comes far too easily.

  


-

  


Orihime watches the ceiling of her apartment dazedly, washing her hands again would leave them too raw and Tatsuki’s visiting tomorrow. How is her brother lately? It’s been a while since he came home. There’s pudding waiting for him she hasn’t touched in a while, Sora has a habit of hoarding them.

  


What  _ is  _ Rangiku doing now? She has to visit one of these days and tell Orihime everything, once and for all. Letters could be tracked after all, even if the stuffy room of Captains refuses to let anything spill to a human.

  


Also, Ichimaru-san too, because Ishida’s getting mopey lately when that’s mentioned. They should form a club, with Ichigo too, with the way things are going between him and Urahara. ‘Missing The Slightly Supernatural Subjects of Their Affection’ has a nice ring to it. At this point, they take long walks near clearings or coffee shops or empty buildings with trickles of hope behind it. Silence is strange for a town like theirs.

  


She and Ishida have already agreed on their ten-step plan on what to do once those two show up in town again. It’s very helpful that lately, she’s been experimenting with the offensive capabilities of her power.

  


As usual, Chad’s the most well adjusted one out of them all.

  


-

  


Sake tastes sweet under blooming trees. Exiled life isn’t too bad, she still got Gin with his smile and the Shady Shop Owner Man now owes them a few years worth pastries even if they can’t step into Karakura until the period is over. 

  


Her brother walks in, and that’s another failed job interview.

  


“Pass the mail, fucker,” said Rangiku, straightening herself at the sight of the familiar envelope in his hands.

  


“Ya know full well, Ran-chan, that the both us ‘ave’nt gotten any action for years now,'' Gin leaves the letter just a hair’s length away from her reach.

  


She kicks him straight in the Urahara-fashioned gigai for that, snatching the cookies straight off his plate when there’s a slight of a flinch from the silver-haired man. The title of Lieutenant has never been for show. 

  


He lets out an offended yelp.

  


“Of course, we wouldn’t do that to your Quincy boy back at home,” Rangiku grins back at him.

  


It was only the combined forces of Hitsugaya, Unohana (with somewhat that of glee in her eyes), and (surprisingly), stoic Byakuya that got them out of an execution (or worse). No doubt they’ll return eventually, for Aizen’s death or any other reason. The Soul Society always had a habit of refusing to tear away from its subjects.

  


Until then, there are worlds out for them to make their way through. Hueco Mundo has their name on it, of course, Aizen’s army would have to be dealt with before the real battle could begin.

  


Rangiku pries open the letter gently, careful not to tear the paper. They’re the highlight of her month, words dipped with so much sincerity it leaves her basking in daylight for weeks. Orihime’s the only one of the Karakura residents who’ve maintained contact with them outside of Shady Shop Owner Man who’s another can of worms she doesn’t feel emotionally stable enough to open.

  


“Say Gin,” she says this carefully, “Did you get anything?”

  


He hums noncommittally in that particular inflection, low and dripping with disappointment, that says he’s going to say up till ungodly hours overthinking. No letters from his Quincy today either, huh.

  


“Do ya think they miss us?” he leans back on his chair, thumbs fiddling through flower petals. It’s an unusual question, the Gin that she knew had never cared all that much what anyone had thought of him, save for Rangiku herself or perhaps Aizen to keep up appearances. Perhaps it’s that Lieutenant of his?

  


(But she has a feeling she knows who it is).

  


“You were sure your Division wouldn’t miss you.”

  


Captain Hitsugaya’s probably fuming at this moment since her exile would’ve left him with enough paperwork to last a century. She knows Gin has been planning his since the beginning, building the Third Division around a core, not himself since he took the white haori. It’s almost terrifying sometimes, how self-sufficient they are. Byakuya could  _ never _ .

  


Despite all the friendships she fostered in the Gotei 13, Rangiku has her loyalties, and they lie squarely with Gin. She's been the man's best friend,  _ sister _ long enough to see how their vacation to Karakura affected him.

  


He shakes his head, confirming her thoughts.

  


"Four years, yeah?” 

  


It’s three and four months now.

  


-

  


Kisuke yawns, stretching out his arms. The data should be in soon, those two should have sent it by now, along with their month’s order of pastries. He might've gotten to it earlier if it had not been for  _ someone _ forcing sleep on him but alas.

  


(Somewhere a cat, former Onmitsukido princess, sneezes.)

  


There's  _ something _ amiss though, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it yet. The building was quiet.  _ Too _ quiet and everyone knows when Urahara Shoten is quiet, shit's going down. An unspoken law of physics perhaps.

  


Ichigo and his friends have been too busy working on their university entrance exams after returning from Hueco Mundo (which was a mess of epic proportions) to hunt Hallows, leaving most of the work to his sisters (who terrify Kisuke, therefore, no commentary.).

  


(“Ichi-nii said you were going to train us,” the one with black hair, narrowing her eyes then adding on, “The  _ right _ way.”

  


Because Hollowfication was an unacceptable process to those who don’t consent.

  


“Yes, since Ishida-san and Ichi-nii have been busy on their  _ business trip _ , they told us to come and visit you,” the one with the pleasant disposition says (Kisuke is not fooled), hands around her mock sword, stronger than steel.

  


If Kisuke were to refuse now, Ichigo might give him that look of Disappointment and forgiveness wouldn’t come easily. Especially when his mood isn’t all that good with finals rearing its ugly head this season. 

  


He claps his hands together, “Of course! What would I not do for Ichigo-kun!” That was perhaps the truest thing to come out of his mouth in a long time. “The training room is that way.”

  


The girls nod, satisfied with his answer. Although he can hear a mumble there or two of, “Yeah? Then why won’t he get that pining bullshit over with?”

  


A muffled laugh, “Now, Karin, you know Ichi-nii and his friends aren’t good with emotions. We’ll just have to give them a little  _ push _ .”

  


Terrifying.

  


“Put your back into it, Karin-chan!” he fans himself with cheer. Good thing he had a few Hollows in his labs leftover.

  


They’re  _ vicious _ , in the way that would make any full-grown Shinigami weep. 

  


Isshin would be horrified to know his little girls have fighting Hollows in their spare time, Ichigo too. These were only supposed to be self-defense lessons but one thing led to the next and what kind of person would he be if he made the girls—or Ichigo—sad?)

  


The air conditioner whirs in the background, drowning out his thoughts. Benihime is persistent in her want for blood but  _ that _ , he’s been dealing with for centuries now. Reiatsu hums in the air like a promise, one he can’t quite place his finger on with its familiarity. Yes, he knows these signatures from somewhere within the time he was a Shinigami, they certainly don’t belong to the Vizored or any in Karakura.

  


“Oi! Shady Shop Owner Man!” and that’s a voice he recognizes. 

  


From down the hall, a head of long orange hair sticks out, grinning in tow with her equally-a-headache silver haired, closed-eyed brother. Ah, that’s right, it’s been four years since their subsequent Seireitei raid. 

  


This day just got a  _ lot  _ longer. 

  


He sighs, tilting his hat down to a reasonable angle, “A party?” Kisuke says in mock hurt. “Without  _ me _ ?”

  


That was also a bottle from his real nice stash in Matsumoto’s hands. The one that was supposed to be in his secret room in his training basement. 

  


“We’ve heard  _ all  _ about these last four years from good ol’ Tessai over here!” She pours some for him, putting the dish next to a stack of pink papers. At least they didn’t forget.

  


Gin finishes for her, “Includin’ the Closet Incident.”

  


Shocked but not surprised. Everyone involved in the so-called ‘Closet Incident’ had  _ sworn _ to ignore that particular part of history, but  _ somehow _ word has gotten to Tessai who must be enjoying every second of this. Nope. That’s for another day.

  


Two can play this game though, words aren’t hard and Kisuke has a habit of dipping his toes to where he doesn’t belong. 

  


“Yes, yes, very interesting, Ichimaru-san, perhaps you should tell Ishida-kun just that over coffee!” he snaps open his fan. “And Matsumoto-san, I heard Inoue-chan’s been wondering what you meant in your last letter!”

  


Like clockwork, the two of them splutter, red climbing their faces before quickly composing themselves with two equally pointed smiles. Whatever situation they’ve gotten into, it wasn’t his business anyway.

  


A beat of silence before Gin speaks, almost hesitant when he thinks about it, “How’re they?”

  


Kisuke shrugs, “They’re well aside from that trip to Hueco Mundo.” Should he say it? Well, it shouldn’t hurt the messenger. “They missed you.”

  


And  _ that was _ his daily meter for  _ feelings  _ going off. The rest was for later (moping) philosophizing __ about his situation with Ichigo, thank you. 

  


-

  


Uryuu has felt it before, down to his very bones those four years ago. Running his hands through his hair, with a sigh, he and Orihime have a ten-step plan for this exact situation.

  


Breathe.  _ Breathe _ .

  


He is not a child anymore, emotions shouldn’t be this  _ hard _ for someone who hasn’t stepped foot in a high school in a full year. Anyhow, the door inside Urahara Shoten is  _ right there _ and he’ll be damned if he can't complete step one.

  


The letter in his hands, unopened feels heavier than stone. If this  _ asshole  _ wants to say goodbye, he  _ will _ do it in person.

  


There’s a visible spike of reiatsu before the door slides open. Eyes as blue as the aquamarine of clear arctic ice, like cut diamonds ready to draw blood, meet Uryuu’s dark ones. His own heartbeat is all he could hear against his skin. He remembers this like yesterday, drawn deep into his soul.

  


“Uryuu-kun.”  _ Oh,  _ and how he missed the way the man says his name.

  


The distance between them closes by bit.

  


-

  


Rangiku lifts an eyebrow when Gin steps into the room, a red handprint on his right cheek and slightly swollen lips.

  


(Step one: done.)

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, Chad's the most well-adjusted one.
> 
> Go yell at me on twitter [@hoalianyas](https://twitter.com/hoalianyas?s=09) and thank you to the cocoven for enabling me! I'm happy to answer any questions you have


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